


Sam Ecklund's Guide to Saying It Out Loud (and hopefully not being heard)

by LocalLibraryGremlin



Category: American Vandal (TV)
Genre: Crying, Cuddling, Dry heaving, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, only a little bit, peter calls sam sammy and i will die by this sword, sam doesnt understand how earbuds work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25075933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalLibraryGremlin/pseuds/LocalLibraryGremlin
Summary: Sam has to tell Peter, he has to, he knows that, but he also knows that the second he says it out loud...he'll ruin it. He knows he will.
Relationships: Sam Ecklund/Peter Maldonado
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Sam Ecklund's Guide to Saying It Out Loud (and hopefully not being heard)

**Author's Note:**

> first work! american vandal deserved better

Look, Sam thought that Peter had those really fancy, high-class earbuds that were like, noise canceling and shit, because-well, because it was Peter, and owning noise-canceling earbuds is something that Peter would totally own for video editing, or for analyzing videos for evidence for his documentary's.

How was Sam to know that Peter could hear him?

Sam just wanted to have an honest, emotional talk with Peter about his feelings without Peter realizing it. Yes, he realizes that it sounds silly. Yes, he realizes that it is silly. But, he also realizes that just straight up telling Peter that 'hey, I know that you think I have an all-consuming crush on Gabi, but sike bitch, I'm gay, and the only person that I have an all-consuming crush on is you, and I literally felt so heartbroken by you accusing me of drawing the dicks that, not only did I eat several waffles while crying, I also wrote you a Jane Austen style love confession that I immediately destroyed' wasn't exactly an option.

Look, the rituals are intricate and all that, not to mention the fact that, if Sam does tell Peter his feelings, then he has to say them out loud (or in text, which is basically out loud but subtle), then he will ruin their friendship forever, because unless Hell has frozen over, then there is no way that Peter would like him.

But at the same time, Sam can't just not talk about his feelings, that really isn't an option, because lately they had become so strong that he could physically feel them in his chest, which Sam didn't actually know was possible. He had to get his feelings out somehow, but he didn't want to tell Gabi (she would probably shut him down by telling him that she knows that he has a crush on her, even though he _really, really doesn't_ ), he couldn't tell Ming or Randall (both where incredibly sweet people, but where also terrible at keeping secrets), he couldn't tell Christa (she would probably turn it into a protest), he couldn't tell Dylan (Jesus fuck), he couldn't tell the Wayback Boys (Jesus fuck multiplied by two), he couldn't tell any of the teachers (literally the stuff of his nightmares), he couldn't tell his Mom (he wasn't out of the closet, and she also thought that he was in love with Gabi), and he really, really couldn't tell Peter (because that would just end in tragedy).

But the only person that he wanted to talk to was Peter, because his brain hated him.

So, he came up with a plan. While Peter edited the next American Vandal episode, wearing his earbuds, Sam would just tell him all of his deepest darkest feelings. Literally nothing could go wrong with this plan.

So, while Peter edited American Vandal on his bed, earbuds in, Sam sat down next to him as quietly as possible. When Peter didn't react, he started talking.

“Hey, dude.” Peter still didn't react, so Sam kept going. “Look, I know that I said that it was fine, about, you know, the whole...I did the dicks so that prom would get canceled, but I lied. It wasn't fine. It was the opposite of fine, actually. That...that really hurt. First of all, I'm not in love with Gabi. Like, I love her, sure, she's my friend, but I'm not...I'm not in love with her. I'm really not. And I'm so sick of having to tell people that I'm not in love with her, okay? It's so tiring. Like, I'm tired of telling people that I'm not in love with her, because they never believe me. You don't believe me, my mom doesn't believe me, hell, even Gabi doesn't believe me.”

Sam looked at Peter, who was still editing, so he sighed and kept going.

“Like, dude. I'm just going to put everything on the table because you can't even hear me anyways...I'm gay. Like, super gay. Like, I'm a six on the Kinsey scale. In middle school, I took fifty six 'are you gay' quizzes, and I panicked after each and every one. Which should have been obvious to you after we straight up discussed who I thought was circumcised or not. For someone so focused on details, that one really just flew over your dumbass head.” Sam gulped at the end, feeling his eyes burn which was stupid because he specifically told himself that he _wasn't going to cry_ during this.

“And if I'm being totally honest with you...the only person that I want to date in this school is _you._ Which is stupid, I know, because your straight and your smart and lets face it, you could probably do a lot better then me. And your also straight so either way I don't have a chance, which is I know is fine because like, obviously, you're allowed to be straight and that isn't going to change just because I have feelings for you, but it still feels really unfair somehow that you-you don't even have a chance of having feelings for me. Which shouldn't be upsetting but it _is_. Peter, I'm so sad that there isn't even a chance of you having feelings for me. Like, your straight and this isn't a movie where you suddenly realize that your gay just because I have feelings for you, and-and I know that where just high schoolers and that I probably don't understand love at all, but I've know you my entire life and I'm pretty sure that your it for me, man, but I'm not it for you, but that shouldn't make me so _sad_ but it _does_ Peter because it-it feels like I don't get a happy ending, like I'll just be in love with you for forever and then you'll get married and have three kids with some beautiful women, and I'll just die alone, watching your crime documentaries and remembering the fact that I made your first documentary with you, even though it was about goddamn dicks and it won't matter anymore.”

And fuck, Sam was crying, and he hates himself for it, and if Peter looks over he's going to explain why he's crying, and _god_ why does he insist on making everything an overdramatic tragedy.

“Sammy?”

Sam is going to pass out.

He turns towards Peter, slowly, probably being dramatic but it doesn't matter anymore, because his life is over. It's over, Sam is going to bury himself in the backyard.

Peter is staring at him, eyes wide behind his glasses, a little red-rimmed and a lot concerned. His forehead is scrunched up in a mixture of confusion and worry, and Sam straight up sobs before moving off of the bed.

“Did you-how-you're wearing earbuds!” Sam shrieks, pointing at the offending technology in question.

Peter looks at the earbuds in question, and back at Sam. “Sam, their earbuds. I'm still going to hear someone shouting a love confession at me.”

“Oh god.” Sam squeaks out. Peter heard everything. His life is over.

Sam runs over to the window, partially because it's the quickest way out, and partially because he might throw up, and the best place to do that would probably be the roof. He opens the window, and just dry heaves for a minute. He's still crying, but he hasn't puked, so thats a plus.

“Sam-Sammy, I'm going to come closer, okay? I'm not mad, we just need to talk.” Peter says behind him, and Sam assumes that he's walking over to him in the same manner that a person walks over to an injured deer.

Sam sobs. He doesn't even know why, he's just so sad and so embarrassed.

Peter comes up behind him, and places a barely-there hand on his lower back. “Do you want to sit on the bed?”

Sam nods. He's still crying.

So they sit on the bed, and Sam curls in on himself, and Peter makes this concerned whimpering sound and kinda just pulls Sam towards him so that Sam is resting on his chest, and that just makes Sam cry harder, because Peter is only doing this out of some weird moral code that he has, and Peter is going to tell him that he feels nothing for him once he's done crying, and once again, his life is over.

Peter leans back on to his pillows and gently rocks Sam back and forth until the crying slows down a little bit, stroking his hair and gently tracing shapes on his shoulder. After a while, Peter stops rocking, and they just stay like that. Peter rests his chin on Sam's head, and frankly, Sam kinda feels like he's floating, and his brain feels kinda fuzzy, so he just decides to play with a loose string on Peter's button-up.

Peter ends up speaking first. “Okay, I'm just going to work this out issue by issue, so I'm going to start with my accusation of you. So clearly I have not done enough to fix the Gabi issue. That was a shitty thing to do, and I'm sorry. Sammy, I know that you didn't do the dicks. And I shouldn't have created a theory like that. I was just...I'm sorry.”

Sam can feel Peter's heartbeat, it's steady and soothing, and he kinda just wants to sleep forever. “It's okay,” He says instead. “I know that you just wanted the doc to be perfect.”

“But you're more important then the doc. I should have found something else. I could have made you look like a super cool criminal mastermind, or something. Not...not like a sitcom Nice Guy.” Peter pauses. “Point number two. I am perfectly fine with you being gay, Sam. Your my...I just want you be be happy. Also, I'm really proud of you using the Kinsey Scale in order to measure your gayness, it makes the part of my brain that likes data very happy.”

Sam giggles, and Peter tightens his hold on him.

“Third point...you have feelings for me.”

That makes all of the fuzzy feelings leave Sam immediately, and a pit happily makes itself heavy in his stomach. He tries to wiggle out of Peter's grasp, remembering that _Peter is definitely uncomfortable with this._ To his surprise, Peter just squeezes him tighter.

“Dude, I've wanted to cuddle with you since the sixth grade. Stay put.”

And Sam listens.

“Okay, so first of all, I'm never going to forget about you. Ever. You're hardwired into my brain. Second of all...do you want to go to the movies as a date?”

Sam still doesn't move-that would break the moment, which feels like the scariest thing in the world right now-but he does look up at Peter. “What?”

Peter smiles at him, looking a little worn out, but also incredibly happy. “Dude, I've had a crush on you for years. I was so jealous of Gabi during your rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet, because she got to kiss you. I'm also bi, something that I now realize I should have definitely brought up before hand, because clearly this has been eating you up inside.”

“I didn't want to seem predatory.”

“Your not. Also, your definitely it for me too, and we should go on a date, but probably not right now, because you need to drink water and wash your face and maybe put a cool washcloth on your eyes because their still a little puffy, and then you should take a nap because between the crying and the gagging I'm assuming that your probably exhausted.” Peter lists, before kissing the top of Sam's head.

“I love you, Sammy.”

“I love you too.” Sam's voice cracks in the middle of the statement, and he doesn't even care.

They do end up moving, and Peter gets Sam water while he washes his face and checks his eyes-which are extremely red and kinda looks like he bursted a blood vessel, so that's not ideal-and they settle back into bed, Peter pulling back covers and fluffing pillows and finding Sam a t-shirt and some basketball shorts to change into, before doing the same for himself.

They both get into bed, Sam on the left and Peter on the right, with Sam pressing himself up against Peter's chest and tucking his head into the curve of his neck, while Peter rolls on to his back and hooks his arms around Sam's waist, drawing shapes on Sam's lower back-he can feel stars and hearts so far.

“This-this isn't going to hurt your lungs, right?” Sam asks, remembering Peter's asthma.

“Nope.” Peter says, all smiley, and Sam pulls himself up until he's straddling Peter.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

This leads to giggling, and then their kissing, soft and gentle and a little messy because neither of them know what their doing. They get the hang of it, and Peter even manages to suck on Sam's bottom lip a bit, which makes Sam let out a little breathy sound. They separate, Peter is glowing red and Sam knows that his cheeks are pink. It's nice.

They end up sleeping, and decide to edit the episode tomorrow in the AV room, together.


End file.
